Chapter 1
The house looked pleasant and normal on the outside, matching the rest of the neighborhood. Sam and Dean however knew otherwise. Flower baskets outside the windows were filled with plants typically associated with witches. The friendly divorcee that lived there had been killing young men in town with various curses and spells that ranged from choking on blood, to hearts exploding inside of the thoracic cavities. Dean did admit that all of the men were douchebags, but they didn't deserve death. Sam had managed to link a pattern of similar killings to one witch who seemed to strike every five years or so.
It was the dead of night as the hunters quietly crept into the silent house. They worked efficiently to sweep through the first and second floors looking for the witch. Soon the only place left was the basement. Sure enough the middle-aged woman was there standing in front of an altar. It appeared as though she was working on a spell. She had her back to the boys, but as Dean raised his gun the woman flicked her hand and sent the older hunter flying into the far wall. Sam opened fire. The bullets seemed to bounce off a barrier that surrounded the witch. He suddenly flew to join Dean, crashing painfully into the wall.
"Well boys, the woman's voice was smooth as velvet. "I'm so glad you came. I needed a new test subject." She turned to grab a bowl from the altar. The viscous liquid inside was such a dark red it almost looked black. "Who's going to volunteer?"
"Why don't you drink it? Looks like it tastes like shit," Dean growled. He struggled to move against the magic pinning them to the wall.
The witch just laughed. "But I don't know what it does yet. That's why I always test my potions. There's no fun in getting myself hurt."
"So all those men who died; they were just guinea pigs?" Sam was disgusted.
Dean watched the witch mutter some kind of spell and stir the liquid in the bowl with a metal spoon. To his horror she threw its contents at Sam. The younger man gasped in shock and then coughed at the sickly sweet smell. His heart was racing in fear. Dean's voice screaming his name was nearly drowned out by his pounding heart. Sam looked at his big brother in desperation, and the fear in his eyes nearly broke Dean's heart. "Huh," the witch said. "I guess that one's a bust."
An indescribable rage filled Dean. This bitch had thrown some mystery potion all over his brother and was disappointed that nothing happened. Seeing red, the older Winchester was able to lunge at the witch. They toppled over the altar. Dean grabbed the knife that had been knocked off and slammed it into the witch's chest. Her scream was bone chilling and unhuman, before she turned into a pile of dust. Sam watched, stunned by Dean's show of violence.
With the witch dead, Dean was immediately at Sam's side. "Sammy," he reached for his brother, frowning when he flinched away. "It's okay. Lemme wipe this crap off of you." Dean took off his jacket and flannel shirt, using the soft flannel to wipe the potion off Sam's face and neck. Sam seemed to snap out of his daze as he snatched the shirt away and gave his brother one of his famous bitch faces. "Just tryin' to help," Dean scoffed.
"I'm not a kid, Dean," Sam snapped. "I can clean myself." He proceeded to wipe his face neck and hands roughly with the shirt. "I am so taking a shower when we get back to the motel. This crap is all over my hair. I'm burning these clothes too." As the men stood, something caught Sam's eye. The witch's spell book was lying open on the floor. It had been knocked off when the altar had tipped. A crisp white piece of paper was clipped to the older more yellowed pages. Sam figured this was the ingredient list for the potion the crazy witch had mixed up. The space under "Effects" was blank. "This might come in handy," Sam muttered, pocketing the book.
At the motel, Sam went straight for the shower while Dean flopped on the bed. He thanked the powers that be that the potion didn't do anything to his little brother. For once they seemed to catch some good luck for a change. The image of that thick dark mixture splashing his baby brother had Dean hopping off the bed and trying to steady his breathing. He honestly thought he was going to lose Sam and be forced to watch as him die a slow painful death like the other men. Sam exited the bathroom, and Dean found it easier to breathe seeing that he was okay. They gathered all of the soiled clothes and burned them in the parking lot before calling it a night. Dean waited until Sam had fallen asleep before he even tried to sleep. Part of him was still worried something was going to happen, causing a restless slumber for the older hunter.